Guardians of the West

were going to treat each other like brothers."
    "Don't twist words on me, you little weasel. Besides, I stuck a knife in my brother twenty years ago -for lying to me."
    As the last of the trapped and outnumbered cultists threw down their arms in surrender, Polgara, Ce'Nedra, and Errand came cautiously up the ravine, accompanied by the filthy, hunchbacked Beldin.
    "Your Algar reinforcements are still several days away." the ugly little sorcerer told Garion. " I tried to hurry them along, but they're very tenderhearted with their horses. Where did you get all the Nadraks?"
    "Silk hired them."
    Beldin nodded approvingly. "Mercenaries always make the best soldiers," he said.
    The coarse-faced Yarblek had been looking at Polgara, his eyes alight with recognition. "You're still as handsome as ever, girl," he said to her. "Have you changed your mind about letting me buy you?"
    "No, Yarblek," she replied. "Not yet, anyway. You arrived at an excellent time."
    "Only because some lying little thief told me there was loot to be had." He glared at Silk and then nudged the body he was standing over with his foot. "Frankly, I'd make more money plucking dead chickens."
    Beldin looked at Garion. "If you intend to see your son again before he has a full beard, you'd better get moving," he said.
    "I've got to make some arrangements about the prisoners," Garion replied.
    "What's to arrange?" Yarblek shrugged. "Line them up and chop off their heads."
    "Absolutely not!"
    "What's the point of fighting if you can't butcher the prisoners when it's over?"
    "Someday when we have some time, I'll explain it to you," Silk told him.
    "Alorns!" Yarblek sighed, casting his eyes toward the murky sky.
    "Yarblek, you mangy son of a dog!" It was a raven-haired woman in leather breeches and a tight-fitting leather vest.
    There was at once a vast anger and an overwhelming physical presence about her. "I thought you said we could make a profit by picking over the dead. These vermin don't have a thing on them."
    "We were misled, Vella," he replied somberly, giving Silk a flinty look.
    "I told you not to trust that rat-faced little sneak. You're not only ugly, Yarblek, you're stupid as well.".
    Garion had been looking curiously at the angry woman.
    "Isn't that the girl who danced in the tavern that time in Gar og Nadrak?" he asked Silk, remembering the girl's overwhelming sensuality that had stirred the blood of every man in that wayside drinking establishment.
    The little man nodded. "She married that trapper -Tekk- but he came out second best in an argument with a bear a few years back, and his brother sold her to Yarblek."
    "Worst mistake I ever made," Yarblek said mournfully. "She's almost as fast with her knives as she is with her tongue." He pulled back one sleeve and showed them an angry red scar. "And all I was trying to do was to be friendly."
    She laughed. "Ha! You know the rules, Yarblek. If you want to keep your guts on the inside, you keep your hands to yourself."
    Beldin's eyes had a peculiar expression in them as he looked at her. "Spirited wench, isn't she?" he murmured to Yarblek. "I admire a woman with a quick wit and a ready tongue."
    A wild hope suddenly flared in Yarblek's eyes. "Do you like her?" he asked eagerly. "I'll sell her to you, if you want."
    "Have you lost your mind entirely, Yarblek?" Vella demanded indignantly.
    "Please, Vella, I'm talking business."
    "This shabby old troll couldn't buy a tankard of cheap ale, much less me." She turned to Beldin. "Have you even got two coins to rub together, you jackass?" she demanded.
    "Now you've gone and spoiled the whole negotiation," Yarblek accused her plaintively.
    Beldin, however, gave the dark-haired woman a wicked, lopsided grin. "You interest me, girl," he told her, "and nobody's done that for longer than I can remember. Try to work on your threats and curses a bit, though. The rhythm isn't quite right." He turned to Polgara. "I think I'll go back and see what those Drasnian pikemen are up to. Somehow I don't believe that we want them creeping up behind us." Then he spread his arms, crouched, and became a hawk.
    Vella stared incredulously after him as he soared away. "How did he do that?" she gasped.
    "He's very talented," Silk replied.
    "He is indeed." She turned on Yarblek with fire in her eyes. "Why did you let me talk to him like that?" she demanded. "You know how important first impressions are. Now he'll never make a decent offer for me."
    "You can tell for yourself that he